


Day by Day

by AlviePines



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: (the OCs here arent countries), (theyre just human people), 1800s America, American History, Antebellum period, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Gen, Historical Hetalia, Historical References, Nationverse, Slice of Life, america & his people - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:14:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28760880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlviePines/pseuds/AlviePines
Summary: Every nation loves their citizens. They are, in their most basic forms, embodiments of the hopes, fears, and dreams of those people. Here is a day in the life of America, a bright young country, shaped by the citizens he meets every day.Includes references to the several generations of American flags, westward expansion, and life in the early 1800s.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	Day by Day

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on a whim, so hardly any research has gone into it. Sorry about that. I'm still very proud of it <3
> 
> Also: if you look closely you can tell exactly what year this fic takes place in. That was an accident. I wanted it to be ambiguous, but as usual, I got too overzealous with the little research I did do. Kudos to anyone who can tell me what year it is :)

The sun streamed over rooftops and through windows, bright and pale and just beginning to burn away the mist and low-hanging fog of morning.

A young man with golden hair made his leisurely way across the docks, smiling like a child on Christmas. He waved cheerfully to the men who were rigging ropes, checking boats, and preparing for the day. The sailors recognized him and returned his greeting with whoops and hollers. He came to the docks nearly every morning before setting out into town, always eager to take in the flurry of activity around him and exchange conversation with the dockworkers. 

Almost as soon as he stepped down from the docks a voice called out to him, and he turned to see a woman stepping out of her home, laundry flung over her arm and a motherly smile directed at him. She was Mary Claremont, and they'd known each other for well over a decade now. Of course, a decade was fleeting to him. 

"Alfred! Come here," she called. "I've made something for you." 

He approached with the same easy smile he always wore. "For me? Mary, you shouldn't have!" 

"Oh, hush, you. Look at this." Mary carefully shrugged off the sheets and laid them over the railing, leaving only one draped over her arm. "I just finished it last night and was hoping to see you this morning," she admitted while handing it to him. 

It was immediately obvious what it was. Red and white stripes, navy blue speckled with stars. It was his flag. Hand-stitched, hand-embroidered, and he suspected the cloth had been spun and dyed by Mary herself. As he unfurled the flag, the upper left corner caught his eye. 

"Twenty stars?" He asked. 

"It's the new one," she said proudly. "One star for every state. I thought you'd want one with—"

Alfred cut her off with a swift movement, hugging her tightly around the waist and nearly lifting her off the ground by accident. "I love it! Thank you so much!" 

"Oh, my—I'm glad you like it, then." 

"Of course, of course!" He put her down in a hurry, and spread out the flag again, admiring it. "One for every state…” he said quietly. _For my family_ , he added, silently.

"I know they mean a lot to you," Mary said, voice soft. 

Alfred nodded. "I'll keep it forever," he said reverently.

Mary laughed. "What if they issue a new flag? You know we're getting more states every day now, doesn't it seem?" 

Alfred shrugged. "I'll still keep this one. _You_ made it." 

Mary beamed with pride. "Well, I'm flattered. Now, you looked like you were going somewhere—" she gently pushed him towards the street— "so you get on your way, now." 

"Right, right, and you've got chores to do." He flashed a brilliant smile at her and trotted off down the street. "See you later, Mary!" 

A minute later, she was out of sight, and he was on his way again. During their talk, the sun had risen higher, and now hit the ground at a sharper angle. The early morning mist had burned away, leaving bright, golden light in its wake. Though the morning's chill still clung to the ground and hid in shadows, the sunlight warmed his skin with its touch. Today was going to be a good day. 

It was a short walk to the town square, his favorite place in the world (for now, at least—he was always discovering new things, always seeing new places and animals when he hitched rides with the settlers moving west. Every year, new discoveries were bound to be found for the United States of America.) 

Most shopkeepers and merchants had already set up their stalls for the day, but a few stragglers were hauling new wares into the square. They carried burlap sacks and pulled carts full of fruit and dried meat; one man carried bolts of cloth, with his wife and children bringing what he couldn't hold himself. Alfred found a stack of crates to sit on and watch his people go about their day. His seat was under the eaves of a house on the northern edge of the square. It was chilly now, but by the time noon rolled around, he would be grateful for the shade. 

"Heyo, Alfred! Is that you?" He turned to face the speaker, and was met with a tall, grizzled older man. The man's face split into a grin upon seeing him, and he approached with an air of friendly familiarity. "I haven't seen you around these parts in a good while, friend! Where've you been?"

Alfred frowned for a moment, before his face lit up in recognition. "Daniel! Hey, come sit down!" He moved over a bit and patted the crate next to him. 

"Don't mind if I do," Daniel said with a grin. "So really, kid, where _have_ you been?" 

Alfred shrugged. "Out west." 

Daniel shook his head in disbelief. "Again? Didn't you go out west a couple years back?" 

"Sure did," Alfred confirmed. 

"Why'd ya come back if you were only going to leave again, son? Can't you stay in one place for too long?" 

Alfred frowned and shrugged again. "There were new trails. I wanted to see them." Then he remembered something and his face lit up. "Oh, Dan, you won't believe what I saw! There were these animals that look like deer, right? Except they have these funny little horns and all these weird markings. They're called pronghorns!" Alfred giggled to himself. "They had funny-looking noses too." 

Dan shook his head. "Kid, you keep that excitement in you." 

"Hmm? Sure thing, Dan. Oh, hey, what are you in town for?" 

Daniel nodded towards the stalls on the far end of the square, where one of the men from earlier was waving his family away. "Wife 'n kids needed some new cloth and thread. All of our clothes need mending. My wife says she wants to make me somethin' new for the summer, too. For the grandkids." 

"Oh, how's Sally?" Alfred asked. "Is she old enough to sew now?" 

Daniel gave him an odd look. "She's 15 this fall—I sure hope so." 

Alfred flushed. "Sorry. I forgot." In truth, he had no idea when a typical human passed such stages. His own growth had been staggered, his progress in alignment with that of his people.

"Well, uh, you should probably get along and do that," Alfred suggested. Daniel didn't know who Alfred truly was, and he wasn't about to trip up and tip him off.

"Ay, you're right," Daniel said. He lifted himself off the crates with some difficulty. "Take care, son." 

"Will do, sir!" 

Once Daniel passed out of sight, Alfred relaxed against the crates. The sun was once again higher in the sky, and the heat was beginning to reach him. The square was rapidly filling with people and noise. All around him, people shouted and bartered and advertised their wares; bright cloths were flung over countertops to draw the eye; shrieking children ran about underfoot. 

His people. His lifeblood.

There was nothing else in the whole wide world that he loved more than his people. 

Well, maybe he loved adventure too—maybe there was something to be said for the roll of a wagon wheel, the bounce of an unbeaten path beneath her, and the dust kicked up by the horses up front. Maybe there was a kind of magic in an unbroken horizon, shimmering blue stretching as far as the eye could see. Maybe he would always want to push further west, as far as the land would allow him. 

But there were also his people, and they meant enough to him that he kept coming back. The pull of the unchartered, unpopulated west couldn't keep him away from these settlements, where his people lived unobstructed and free.

The sun was a quarter way down the sky. He wasn't quite ready to leave yet. He settled more comfortably into his nook and waited. 

Soon enough, he was approached by a young woman with a basket in her hands.

"Hello," he said, smiling easily. "What have you got here?"

"Apples from my family's orchard," she replied. "Would you care to buy some? My ma says they're perfect for apple pies." 

"How much, then?" he asked. Now that she was closer, Alfred judged her to be in her early teens—perhaps 13 or 14. She seemed to be in good spirits despite the later hour.

"Two for fifty cents," she said. "Or five for a dollar."

"I'll take two." 

"Right, take what you want." She held out her basket and Alfred picked a few. Just as she turned to leave, Alfred called out: "Wait! What's your name?" He liked to know the names and faces of his people—as many as he possibly could.

She smiled nervously. "My name? It's Jane," she said.

The boy grinned. "Have a nice night, Jane!" As he watched her walk away, he bit into one of the apples. It was crisp and juicy, sweet and perfect. He hadn't expected it.

...

It was almost sundown. The golden-haired boy looked up at the sky. Brilliant oranges and rosy pinks faded into a soft lilac purple above him, and then seeped into the dark, dusty blue of the remaining daytime sky. The market was packing up now, shopowners folding their wares back into their carts and burlap sacks. Wives and children were arriving to help carry them back home. There was a tired, but contented feeling permeating the air; the feeling of a day's work well done. To his right, a young woman pointed up at the brilliant sunset in wonderment, and her and her friend stopped to stare. Everyone seemed happy, so _Alfred_ was happy.

This was why he kept coming back, he reminded himself. Even after Davie. These people, _his_ people—and their lives, their sorrows and joys. He felt them all somewhere inside him. He ached for them. They were a part of him, each and every one.

Yeah. They may have called him a free spirit, too rebellious and adventurous for his own good, but in truth, he was bound to his people.

America was always bound to his people.

**Author's Note:**

> As soon as I went to post this I realized I should have pursued the continuity between the new states joining the country and America's care for his people. FML. Maybe I'll rewrite it when I have spoons to spare.
> 
> Beta read by HerdOfTurtles, who was absolutely wonderful at the job <3


End file.
